


Bed, Bath and Beyond Necessity

by Mandergee



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pre "Face My Enemy", Spoilers for Season Two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 06:44:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3926830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandergee/pseuds/Mandergee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He could have made it an order, but as Skye suggested...he didn't. Instead, Phil Coulson took another approach to convincing Melinda May to carry out a certain kind of mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bed, Bath and Beyond Necessity

“Dude, you act like you've never been in a homegoods store before today.” There were _so many towels_ , and Phil felt his eyes rolling back in his head as he stepped back to follow the gradient of colors up to the ceiling. How he'd let Skye talk him into the trip was still a mystery, and why it was that they now stood in front of an obscenely large amount of fluffy cotton was also something he'd been questioning himself about since they'd rounded the corner from bedding to bath. “You pick a towel. You pick a color. Does May even _use_ towels, or does the stern look in the mirror scare the water into evaporating?”

“Skye.” Months of working side by side with May hadn’t accomplished much by way of lessening the sarcasm when it came to her S.O’s stoic demeanor, and Coulson managed a withering look in Skye’s general direction before she disappeared behind a stack of Egyptian Cotton in eggshell.

“You told me she hates undercover. A present is definitely going to help soften the blow, right?”

“Why a towel?”

“Undercover as a married couple? You could always use it as your cover.” He hadn’t thought of the cover yet, only the names Heidi and Charles, that Heidi spent her time balancing the finances for a local charity while Charles enjoyed golf on Sunday afternoons with his father in law while they discussed fine cigars. But why they were together, how they met, what they did on Saturday evenings? He hadn’t thought about any of that, although clearly Skye had taken the idea of the two of them undercover and married as entertaining enough to require more depth- and more detail. “She wanted nice towels for the master bathroom. You know, just in case the topic of household stuff comes up.”

“I don’t think May cares about the towels.” But the colors, he mused, were something he could get on board with. When they’d gone undercover in Prague they’d stayed at a hotel that was richer in color scheme than he’d ever seen, and the look of May’s tanned arm against the deep purple sheets had been a memory that stayed with him for years after. He’d been on the couch, beige cushions that were overstuffed and awkward, but he’d been forever grateful she’d taken the bed when the look of her sleeping had reassured him that she was all right after the harrowing night prior.

There was a pile of towels in the mix and the color drew him in, his fingers reaching up for the dark plum that was soft and yielding against his prodding touch. They reminded him of the bedsheets, the way she’d looked, and for a moment he thought he was smiling- _knew_ he was, when Skye’s hand reached up to snatch a folded towel from the stack.

“All right- stage one complete. Off to stage two.”

“What’s stage two?” They hadn’t discussed a multi-stage mission, and as Skye began to move away Coulson reached for her arm, pulling her back to him. “Skye? What’s stage two?”

“ Monograms. Someone like Heidi- she’s not going to have just _any_ towels in her master bathroom. M.M- and you can always say it stands for ‘Mrs.Martin’. You know, newlyweds.”

“Of course.” How she’d ever gotten so ‘romantic’, he chuckled to himself, he’d never know. But the idea of May opening the box and seeing her initials staring up at her had begun to conjure a picture in his mind, and Coulson knew that it was no longer an option to try and resist Skye’s encouragement any longer. “All right. Let’s get it over with. May is going to wonder where we both are.”

“Can’t have that,” Skye quipped, and for a moment the expression on her face was somewhere else as she clutched the towel to her chest. “I wonder what dress she's going to wear.”  
“ If we hurry, I’ll let you stay up late so you can see it.” The joke earned him a scathing look, and he smiled as Skye turned back again to head in the direction of the monogram station. But it raised an entirely new question, and Coulson found himself rushing after her in hopes they could finish the job quickly. _He_ didn’t even know what May was going to wear, and thanks to Skye his curiosity was peaked.

If she consented to the mission it was anyone's guess as to what she would do to accommodate it, and something inside told him that he'd be lucky if a gift- even one as silly as a towel- would be enough to get him through the preparations without an earful of reasons from May why she should have said no.

\--

“What's this?” The box was simple, wrapping job inconspicuous. He'd left it up to Skye, once they'd come back from the store with an overwhelming amount of necessities for the mission and one or two other 'necessary' pieces Skye had insisted that May would need to sway her. It had been on the tip of Coulson's tongue to say that May really didn't have a choice if he gave the order and that she would follow it, but something in the back of his mind had told him he owed her more than that. Than to issue an order she would blindly follow when she was already doing so much to have his back was a mistake he couldn't afford to make- not then. But when he'd called her to his office and set the box of gifts on an empty table he hadn't been prepared for the suspicion, and inwardly kicked himself for it. “Phil?”

“Open it.” The arch of her eyebrow was graceful as it always was, an odd marvel in a face that was so talented at hiding emotion. Better than anyone he'd ever known, even before events had transpired to make her a different person than he'd first met at the Academy. As her fingers tore at the wrapping and pushed it aside he rose from behind the desk, circled it and leaned against the carved wood to watch her lift the lid and reveal what lay beneath. “Well?”

“A towel. And...” The towel came out first and Coulson found himself smiling at the memory of the color on her skin, so accurate that it brought back a flood of memories as her fingers wrapped around the soft cotton. “A bracelet.”

“Fitz came up with that- allows you to electronically bypass any keycard entry. And he tells me it's modeled from something in the Tiffany's catalog.” The statement earned him a sideways glance, her temporarily relaxed eyebrow arching upward once again. “Silver- Simmons says it'll go with anything you pick out.”

“Pick out for what, exactly?” The realization only took a minute to dawn on her, and in that minute May's expression ran the gamut from confusion to utter frustration and back to a resigned, familiar look he'd seen a hundred times before. Every time he asked of her a favor and she'd accept, willingly, because she was _Melinda_. “When are we leaving?”

“Tomorrow afternoon. Skye volunteered to go with you and help you pick out something- it's a black tie charity event for the church. Give us a chance to get our hands on that painting before Hydra.” He already had everything he needed- leftovers from time with Audrey that gave him wistful memories each time he'd run the lint roller across the inky black lapels. A suit that made him look like James Bond's bumbling understudy, but one that caused Audrey to whisper the sweetest words in his ear when they'd be sitting at the opera...or on their way to dinner. “I need you there with me, if I want this to be believable.”

“And what's the towel for, exactly?” Once they'd been undercover in Peru, and May in a bathing suit had been another of the many memories Coulson swore he'd never revisit- not as long as she was married. Smooth, tanned skin that he caught the barest glimpses of before she'd wrap a thick, fluffy towel around her torso, and as she asked for his intentions the image popped back into his mind.

“Cover. It was Skye's suggestion- something about Heidi Martin and towels in the master bath. To be honest I wasn't really listening.”

“Heidi Martin? I take it you're not resurrecting Pablo, then?” Her smile was soft and to anyone else might have been barely noticeable, but to Coulson it was as beautiful as it had always been.

“No. This mission calls to someone a little more...suave.” He reached behind him, handing off a manila envelope containing her undercover credentials. “Charles Martin. I think it's time we created someone new- don't you?”

“I don't know, I kind of liked Pablo.” She ran her fingers against the soft towel, withdrew her own ID from the folder and inspected it carefully. “All right. I'll do it. But I'm not going shopping with Skye.”

“Melinda-”

“I already have something. You're terrible at keeping secrets- I caught Fitz working on the bracelet yesterday, and while you and Skye were out, I took care of my end.” Her smile became mischievous, and May began to gather up the collection of gifts and paperwork. “Next time, just ask.”

“I know how much you hate undercover.”

“I do.” The knock on the door stopped her, and she pulled back her hand as it began to make its way to gently cup over his. “But I hate surprises even more. I'll see you later.”

“Sure.” Skye's surprise was evident as May strode past her, and the door was pushed open the rest of the way to allow her to barrel enthusiastically into the office. “I take it she liked the towel. Is she-”

“Not going shopping with you. She already knew.” It was the one thing he _hadn't_ anticipated, that May would have stumbled upon the plans long before he'd been ready to reveal them, and Coulson found himself smiling again at the idea of it. Despite the fact that undercover work was the last thing she ever wanted to do she'd already prepared herself, and he wondered what it was she'd picked out- what waited in her closet among tactical gear and basic black. “She got a dress while we were out shopping for the rest of it.”

“Damn.” Skye dropped into a chair, and her disappointment was evident. “I really wanted to see what she'd look like in something red.”

“We're all full of surprises,” Coulson reminded her. “You never know. May might have picked out something that was exactly what you hoped for.”

“I doubt it.”

But the next afternoon proved both of them wrong. May didn't wear red, having gone with a stunning silver that explained the tiny sparkle in her eyes when she'd lifted the bracelet from its box. She had earrings he'd never seen and never imagined she'd have chosen for herself, dripping from her ears and sparkling brilliantly against the curtain of dark hair she'd let fall loosely over her shoulders. Charles Martin, he thought, was a lucky man...and for better or for worse, so was Phil Coulson.

Because he had a woman who would do the thing she hated most...with or without a fluffy cotton towel that bore her initials.

And he wondered, as they climbed into the back of a glistening Rolls Royce, if she'd even bothered to keep it.

 


End file.
